


Last Stars

by Hagar



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s05e15 Power, Gen, Missing Scene, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4964746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagar/pseuds/Hagar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“A week ago, Dwight was happy for the first time since Lizzy. What would you call what happened to him since?”</p>
<p>McHugh was right, and not only because of the havoc Dwight could wreck: Dwight shone like a light in this darkness, and it drew people to him as if to a lighthouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Stars

The door clicked shut. Vince looked up over his reading glasses to gaze across the dusty room Dave and he claimed for an office, since they’d had to abandon the Herald.

McHugh lifted a bottle in a mock-salute and sauntered over.

“Is that Alice Rivers’ moonshine?” Vince asked.

“Guaranteed methanol free,” McHugh agreed. He put the bottle down on the desk, pulled up a chair, turned it around and straddled it. “Consider it a goodwill gesture.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Yes. But not for the reason you think you should.”

“Is that so?”

McHugh just looked at him.

“If you wanted me dead or dismembered, I already would be.”

“You were that stupid, you wouldn’t still be alive.”

“Ah.” Vince leaned back in the terrible, hard-backed chair. “You’re here to inform me of some cold, hard truths you think I missed.”

“Correction: I know you did.”

“Is that so.”

“Military folks in Haven come in two flavors: Guard, and Church.”

“And then there’s free agents, like you,” Vince noted. McHugh wasn’t angry, perhaps, but he was just as upset as Vince thought he was or he wouldn’t be this direct. Not that Vince knew what brought this about - but if McHugh brought up the service, then Vince knew who.

Dwight’s best friend and sole connection to an unTroubled life leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “You know why I quit?”

“You wanted some peace and quiet,” Vince quoted his own words back at him, “had enough war for one lifetime.”

McHugh’s half-smile was thin and humorless, a predator’s gesture more than a human one.

Vince leaned forward to place his own elbows on the desk. “Or so you said. You as good as told me your real reason had to do with Dwight, way you just brought up the military, but I admit that’s as far as I follow.”

The thin not-a-smile vanished with the mention of Dwight’s name. There were no more masks camouflaging McHugh’s cool focus. This wasn’t the gaze of a someone soothing their fears with the litany of all the ways they could kill you, though. Vince wasn’t sure _what_ it was, other than intense.

“You worked with infantry, you worked with Marines - I’m pretty sure you worked with Recon, too.”

“Rangers are different, I know that.”

“You know what happens when one of us breaks?”

“You don’t.”

“We do.”

The tone of McHugh’s voice made Vince’s skin crawl. “So, what happens then?”

“The pile of bodies is higher.”

“More pressure accumulated.” McHugh’s eyes sparkled with surprise: he hadn’t expected Vince to keep up. “Dwight’s had a long time to build that pressure.”

McHugh blinked and, just like that, Vince lost what little ground he’d gained. “He snapped eight years ago. What did you think his Trouble was?”

It took Vince several seconds to find words, as well as an appropriately light tone. “Well, there hasn’t been a pile of bodies yet.”

“One week ago, Dwight was happy for the first time since Lizzy. “A week ago, Dwight was happy for the first time since Lizzy. What would you call what happened to him since?”

McHugh’s tone made Vince’s skin crawl; his words filled Vince’s gut with ice and made his heart race at the same time. Later, he would think it had to be what a heart attack felt like; in that moment, forced his mind to not flee from his own words as he said: “A disaster we can’t afford,” and kept his voice steady.

McHugh’s voice was flint as he replied “Then don’t make it worse.”

“How am I making it worse?”

“Banishment.”

“We can’t afford -”

“- to lose Dwight, as _you’re_ no better trusted than you were six weeks ago.”

“And where were _you_ six weeks ago?”

“Staying someone Dwight would trust. Best case scenario, I can keep him together until he can afford to decompensate.”

“Worst case scenario?”

“He kills me, and you’ve no one left who can take him out.”

Instinctively, Vince ran through his mental catalogue of the Troubled for someone who could stop Dwight if he couldn’t bear it anymore, but - Dwight knew all of the same names. No, McHugh was right - he was the only one who could stop Dwight if it became necessary; he was also right about it being better that never came to pass - not just because of the havoc he could wreak but because he shone like a beacon in this darkness, and Haven had been destroying its lighthouses since always.

Haven’s literal lighthouse has been laying in ruins for over a month. Vince’s heart contracted painfully. “What do you want me to say? Not everyone can be ruled by kindness.”

“I know.” There was no anger in McHugh’s voice, and no exhaustion or coldness either: it was a statement of fact, all the more terrible for its simplicity. “But he can’t bear it, and he can’t walk away this time either. This time he might still refuse you.” McHugh stopped. His lips remained parted as if he couldn’t swallow back the words that would follow but clearly, he couldn’t bear to say them either.

Neither could Vince bear to say it out loud: that if he made Dwight say ‘No’ too many times, eventually he would say ‘Yes’. It was only human, and even Army Rangers were no titans.

McHugh’s eyes narrowed in response to the deflated expression Vince’s face shaped itself into.

“You’ll kill me if I forget, won’t you,” Vince said heavily.

“That’s not up to you,” McHugh said flatly. He rose from his chair. “Find another solution.”

“Thanks for the moonshine,” Vince told his back, but McHugh didn’t turn, pause or acknowledge him in any way.

Vince opened the bottle, upended a jar of pens and poured himself a glass.


End file.
